


Evil Author Day Snippet 2017 - Incubus

by Lizbug



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 16:29:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9770426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizbug/pseuds/Lizbug
Summary: There wasn’t a really before and after. As much as a continuum of action and reaction, slur and withdrawal that left him with emotional walls so high and thick that no affectionate siege mounted by his brother or his father, were they to attempt one, would ever have succeeded in breaching them. Then there were the lingering glances, the touches, and finally the all-out violations perpetrated by the catalogue of unseemly characters that tended to congregate in just the sort of places his father liked to stay. The sort of places that didn’t ask questions about two kids alone most of the time. Add in a penchant for attracting the supernatural, like say, two storm daemons who happened to be ready for some company, and it was practically a foregone conclusion.-	Excerpt from the case-notes of Dr Eleanor Visyak, subject YDW240179.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm right smack bang in the middle of exams so I've had to take a break from writing. Having said that they finish next week so I'll be continuing the works that are currently in progress with the unfinished but semi-published ones taking precedence.
> 
> "Incubus" (Provisional title) has been on my computer for a while and is completely unbetaed. It is currently only a beginning with a vague inkling of where it might go. But since it's evil author day and I haven't posted any updates in a while I figure it's better than nothing. I'll leave this excerpt here while I'm working on it (and the rest of my fic) and will take it down again when I'm ready to post the actual story, which may bear some or no resemblance to what I have here. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it x
> 
> P.S. No I haven’t spelt daemon wrong, I’m trying to differentiate between the demons of Christian theology and the daemons of Greek myth and pre Christian period.

There wasn’t a really before and after. As much as a continuum of action and reaction, slur and withdrawal that left him with emotional walls so high and thick that no affectionate siege mounted by his brother or his father, were they to attempt one, would ever have succeeded in breaching them. Then there were the lingering glances, the touches, and finally the all-out violations perpetrated by the catalogue of unseemly characters that tended to congregate in just the sort of places his father liked to stay. The sorts of places that didn’t ask questions about two kids alone most of the time. Add in a penchant for attracting the supernatural, like say, two storm daemons who happened to be ready for some company, and it was practically a foregone conclusion.

  * Excerpt from the case-notes of Dr Eleanor Visyak, subject YDW240179.



 

 

By the time Dean realised what they were, these voices in his head telling him to give himself over to the rage and self-loathing he felt, it was already too late. The shield he had held onto all this time was gone, shattered in the time it took his brother to say two words.

His purpose was gone, battered by harsh words at ear splitting volumes before sneaking off into the night as first one and then the other remaining member of his family left him clinging to the wreckage of a life that suddenly made no sense. A life that could no longer drown out the words. Insidious voices that murmured to him every time some busty barfly gave him the eye or a mark turned out to be more interested in his ass than the felt. Soft whispers in his ear telling him exactly how the manager of some seedy motel was hoping to spend his evening and exactly why it was all Dean was good for.

This half-life was all he was worth, all anyone wanted him for. His family was an illusion that had kept him weak, made him easy to manipulate. The anger would make him strong, it would make his body a weapon to be used as _he_ wanted. He didn’t have to be that scared kid in the sleazy motel or the overcompensating teen under the bleachers. He could turn their lust against them, use it like they used him, and could finally stop being afraid.

Yep, Dean had finally realised what the voices were. Unfortunately, by the time he did, they’d already had at least ten years to work on him. That’s when he could first remember hearing them, or at least that was the time that the hypnotherapy took him back to when Ellie had talked him into doing it with promises of pie warm from the oven. It hadn’t been worth it, not with the nightmares that followed of losing his virginity in lieu of the rent Dad hadn’t left him the money for. Twelve years old in the manager’s office, the sharp edge of the desk digging into his stomach and his teeth gouging into his forearm.

So yeah, maybe just after that when he was limping back to the room to make mac’n’cheese for Sammy was when he first heard them. And then after that every so often until they’d merged with his own internal monologue and he couldn’t really tell the difference.

He didn’t really feel any different from how he’d always felt, or at least he didn’t think so. It was so hard to tell. How much was him and how much was the daemons’ influence? He doubted he’d ever know, but it irritated him thinking that someone else held so much sway over him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Sex and Language

Dean was so used to heeding the hurried warnings of his dad and brother that he obeyed the frantic shout of “Down!” without any hesitation, which was lucky because the skeevy old lady ghost with the fuckin’ axe very nearly took off his head before a shower of salt made her flicker out.

That the shout hadn’t come from his brother, who had run away to Stanford, or his father, who’d hightailed it away from Dean at the first opportunity, didn’t register until Dean was regaining his feet. He span, rock salt shotgun at the ready, to be confronted with the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid eyes on. She was pouring another handful of salt from the canister in her hand, her gaze scanning the room for the ghost, “I hope you’ve at least got iron rounds in that thing, if not make yourself useful and get the hell out of here.”

God, even her voice was gorgeous. Dean found himself sneaking glances at her even while still searching for the vengeful spirits next appearance. She was slender, curvy in all the good ways which sent blood rushing down to his… _Come on Dean! Priorities!_ “Salt rounds actually. You a Hunter?” She smiled, pink tongue moistening ruby red lips in a way that sent his thoughts below his belt again, “Of a kind.”

He figures that sort of cryptic answer is what he deserves for asking such a dipshit question in the first place. Of course she’s a Hunter, who else casually strolls into a haunted house with salt and a shovel. Deep coffee coloured eyes meet his and time elongates. His breath catches in his chest and he wants to go to her, mould his body to hers and just sink into her. Wants her like he’s never wanted another person in his life, but can’t have her because, yep, house is still haunted.

This time it’s his turn to shout and hers to get dusty as the ghost appears behind her, wide eyed and screaming. He lets off a barrel and the ghost vanishes only to reappear immediately to his right. He can’t bring the gun to bear in time and the Huntress is still getting up from the floor. He braces himself for impact, for the bite of ghostly steel and gets a mouthful of ash as she shoots up in flames. “Good timing.” The girl/woman/goddess is dusting herself off as she speaks and he moves to help her. Hands first brushing against her arms and then stilling, palms warm against the leather of her jacket, as a rush of desire floods his system. She’s smiling again, then her hand rests against his chest as she dusts him off in return. “The name’s Meridiana, call me Meri.” _Meridiana_ , the name skims his memory somewhere, probably his dad mentioned her or something.

She’s looking at him expectantly and he stammers out his name, feeling the tips of his ears heat in an unmistakeable blush. She laughs, throaty and full and sweeps her palm further up his chest, hand cradling his face. Heat seems to spread from her touch and he can’t help but lean into it, turning his head so that his lips brush against her skin. He exhales against her and his intent gaze catches the dilation of her pupils, the quick canting of her hips towards him. At least it’s not just him.

He forces himself to take a step back, swallowing down the moan that wants to rise to the surface. “Thanks for the assist. I’d have been in big trouble if you hadn’t shown up.” Her body is almost leaning towards him, like iron pilings drawn towards a magnet, and he wants so badly for her to take that step that he almost doesn’t notice when she does. She’s close again and his heart’s racing, his blood pounding in a constant rhythm of mine, mine. “My pleasure Dean and, if you wouldn’t mind? Perhaps you could return the favour?” She needs something from him. From him? He’s almost as desperate to be needed again as he is for Sam to come back, for his dad to walk through the door. He nods silently and she smiles again, “Don’t say yes until you know what it is.”

 

***

 

They leave the house together, bodies not quite touching as they take the rickety steps two at a time. There’s a man waiting near the impala, tall and strong and with a smile in his eyes for Meri that has Dean swallowing down a surge of jealousy. Although if he’s truly honest with himself he’s not sure whether he’s jealous of the man or of Meri or of them both for that shared look.

The thought stops him dead in his tracks and suspicion rises like bile in his throat. Never in all these years of trading himself, of fucking and being fucked, has he ever been attracted to a man. Not in the primal, ‘want you now’ way he’s feeling looking at Meri’s partner. Sure he’s got off, but that’s just friction and angles and biology. Now he’s looking at this guy. Mr tall, dark and oh so handsome and he’s feeling what seems suspiciously like arousal. And it’s not even the chiselled cheekbones, or the piercing blue eyes, or the way his t-shirt is subtly sticking to his nicely defined abs. There’s just something about him that pulls at Dean, sharp tugs of heat deep in his gut. He resists the urge to walk forward, breathes out slow and controlled. The guy laughs, a delighted chuckle, but he doesn’t come closer and Dean has to shake his head to clear that little twinge of disappointment. The smile aimed in his direction is predatory, almost feral, “Oh yes. You’re the one we need.”

Dean has to grind his heels into the dirt to stop himself from sprinting forward and plastering himself against the guy.

 

“Dean?” Meri’s voice caused Dean to break the heated staring match. She had turned towards him as he slowed and stopped, tilting her head questioningly. She gestured towards the man, “This is Zen. You can thank him for saving both our butts back there.” She’s looking at him, and it’s not the same look but, for a moment, he gets a small hint of belonging. There’s a warm hand on his arm and she’s asking him to follow. He shrugs aside the tingle up his spine that tells him something’s not quite right. He takes one step, then another towards her and the promise of something more. Then he takes her hand and leads her towards the impala, nodding for Zen to follow in their own car.

 

***

 

Dean can hardly remember the drive to the motel, just heat sweeping through his body and the streetlights gleaming on ebony curls. Absently he notices her stepping over salt lines and walking straight through devil’s traps. Then she turns and her smile invites him in, and there’s nothing but want and his cock hard and leaking in his jeans.

They meet at the bed, hands tearing at clothes and Dean gasps as her cool hand wraps around the burning heat of his shaft. His hips jerk involuntarily, rocking against her and he thinks he might go insane if he doesn’t get more. He bends his head, his mouth seeking hers as they finally shuck their clothing and collapse onto the lumpy motel mattress. The force drives the air from her lungs and he eases up only to be dragged back down, their exhaled breaths mingling as he thrusts his tongue into her mouth, revelling in her breathy moans.

Her nipples pebble as the roughened skin of his palms brush up against them and over her ribs, she rolls her hips in response, the undulation trapping his leaking cock between their bodies, smearing their heated skin with pre-come. She guides his hand down to her slick entrance, his thumb kneading her clit and he’s torn between exploring every inch of her and just letting go and pounding into oblivion. The thought vanishes in a wave of heat as she surges against him again, his swollen cock nudging at her entrance. Her nails claw at him as she grabs his ass and yanks him forward, engulfing him in _hottightbliss_. “Fuck! Meri!”

He can feel her smirk against his mouth as she wraps her legs around his hips and something about this should probably strike him as wrong but then he’s ball’s deep in her and it’s all he can do not to come right then. He slips his arms under her shoulders, fingers slipping through the silken strands of her hair. Her eyes are lidded as she reaches up to pull him into the next ardent kiss but something makes him resist and he rests on his elbows as he grinds his hips down, his pubis bone dragging against her clit with every movement. Her eyes open fully as her gaze meets his and it’s a real smile this time instead of that calculating smirk, “C’mon Dean, fuck me.” She leans up on her own elbows, bare breasts skimming his chest. The whisper of her breath against his ear sends a shudder through his body, “You gonna make me scream your name Dean? Fill me up with your come?”

He tugs her back with the hand tangled in her hair, following her down with his mouth on hers. The other hand he uses to hitch her leg up higher in order to thrust deeper, setting up a punishing rhythm. He has to transfer his hand to her shoulder to keep from pushing her up the bed, crushing her to him as she plunders his mouth. They moan in tandem as each thrust drives them higher and higher towards ecstasy. Dean is lost in the feel of her around him, the drag against his cock-head as her walls contract, his rhythm stutters as he moves closer and closer to the edge. With a final cry she squeezes around his shaft, holding him tightly inside her as his vision whites out and he comes in thick streams inside her.

 

He comes to with panting breaths and shifts to claim her mouth again in languorous kisses, wanting to keep her close even as he eases himself out of her. Meri stops his movement with a hand on his ass, then rolls them over until she’s settled on top of him. The motion sends tingles along his nerve endings and it should be uncomfortable but it’s not, “Oh no Dean. I’m not done with you yet.” She pivots her hips just as he grabs her thighs to try and stop her, bracing himself for the friction on his over sensitised and softening cock. Then he realises, _I’m still hard_. His eyes shoot to her face, pushing down momentary panic at her wicked grin. Then the heat washes over him again and he’s responding even while he’s fighting against it. Thrusting up into her while she rides him with abandon. “God Meri please. Meri, please more.” He’s lost in the feel of her, the scent of her skin, the sight of her rising above him, and the pounding heat in his blood.

***

 

Dean becomes aware again sometime around orgasm seven. They’ve changed positions again, kneeling on the bed with her shoulder blades pressed against his chest. He feathers kisses down her neck as one hand fondles her breast. The other is buried between her legs, stroking his cock where it enters her and tracing patterns around her clit. His own legs are trembling with exhaustion, random muscle twitches throwing off his thrusts as he struggles to remain upright, or even semi-conscious. He climaxes again before falling back onto the bed, his chest heaving as he labours for oxygen.

He can’t even raise the energy to protest as she writhes against him, coming down from her own climax. He still turns into her caress though, phantom traces of warmth trailing across his skin. She kisses him, slow and deep, her tongue licking into his mouth, then snuggles down onto his chest, hair splaying out against his outstretched arm. His eyes begin to drift closed with every inhale and a little voice at the back of his mind is wondering whether he’s going to wake up again.

His eyebrows twitch into a frown as his fingertips brush against something hard and he tries to focus. It’s his phone, discarded onto the bed when he’d walked in. He fumbles for it with uncooperative fingers, glancing down into deep brown eyes. “You’re not really going to do that are you Dean?” He searches her face for a moment, hand clutched around his silicon lifeline. _No I’m not_ , he realises as he curls his arm around her and settles back onto the bed, “Besides, you still owe me that favour.”

 

***

 

Dean wakes to an absence of heat. He reaches out for it even though he knows it should be a relief to have it gone, to have her gone. Before the fire that she ignites consumes him and he loses himself again. He should phone Bobby or Caleb, hell even his dad, let them pull his ass out of the fire. He blinks open sleep gritted eyes and sees the figure sat in the chair opposite the bed, “Fuck!” He scrambles back on the bed, reaching for a weapon he knows isn’t there.

The figure coalesces as it rises from the chair and stalks towards him, “Zen?” Dean rubs at his eyes peeling away the gunk that had gathered while he lay in exhausted slumber, “Mmmm” Zen’s affirmation, half purr, half predatory, was enough for Dean’s cock to start paying attention again. “When did you get here? Where’s Meri?” Dean questions the wisdom of staying still as a warm hand explores his bare leg. “Oh I arrived somewhere around round three, but you weren’t paying much attention at the time. That was quite the show you put on for me.” _Shit! I didn’t even notice him come in? What the hell is wrong with me?_

“Meridiana has gone to fetch some breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day you know.” Hands ghosted over Dean’s hips as a jean covered knee settled in between his thighs, he opened eyes he hadn’t realised he’d closed. He was frozen as the other man’s body settled against his, piercing blue eyes holding him transfixed.


End file.
